Getting it
by SabineLaGrande
Summary: Remus doesn't understand Sirius's motorbike, so Sirius sets out to show him. Fluffy SR. ::hangs head in shame::


A/N: I wrote Remus/Sirius. If four guys on horseback show up and want to know the way to Jerusalem, for the love of God, don't tell them.

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Remus just didn't get the motorbike.  
  
The long hair, the earring, the tattoo- those he could handle. But not the motorbike. And it flew. Not just a few feet off the ground either- way up in the clouds. Remus scoffed the first time he saw it. Driving that kind of thing was just asking to be picked up by the Ministry. It was misuse of a muggle artifact. Highly dangerous. But it really meant something to Sirius, so he just let it slide.  
  
Until Sirius asked him to go for a ride.  
  
"No."  
  
"Come on, Remus," Sirius said. "You'll love it."  
  
"I will do no such thing," Remus replied, attempting to look very annoyed. "I hate heights."  
  
"Oh, you'll barely even notice."  
  
"That I'm barreling above the English countryside at Merlin only knows how many miles per hour? No thanks."  
  
"Remy," Sirius begged. "C'mon, just this once, for me?" Bastard. Not fair, using that tone of voice. Remus heaved a sigh. He was gut-checked with a helmet before he could respond. He buckled it on, "because a helmet is really going to do a lot of good when you're crashing to earth from 500 feet," he muttered to himself.  
  
Sirius whipped the cover off the bike. It was pristine, as always. The paint glimmered slightly in the moonlight. Reflexively, Remus's head jerked up. Waning crescent. Safe. He turned his attention back to the bike.  
  
"Where did you get this thing anyway?" Remus asked.  
  
"Arthur Weasley," Sirius grinned. "He's completely daft, absolutely in love with muggle stuff. But he also works for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, so any talk of a flying motorbike might just be ignored up at the Ministry."  
  
So that's how he was getting around it. Remus approved. No sense breaking laws if you weren't sure there was enough government corruption to cover you. Remus looked closer at the bike. Something was missing.  
  
"Er, Sirius?"  
  
"What? Chickening out?"  
  
"How does this... exactly work? I mean, it hasn't got a sidecar or anything..."  
  
Sirius grinned, putting on his helmet- black, with blue flames up the side. "You ride bitch."  
  
Remus cocked an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"  
  
He didn't say anything, just climbed on the bike. He pointed his wand at the bike and said some incantation that made it start. "Jump up behind me," Sirius said. Remus rolled his eyes. Well, he was in it now. He said a silent prayer and got behind Sirius.  
  
Jerkily, the bike began to rise off the ground. Remus threw his arms around Sirius. He snickered, but Remus didn't hear it. He was too busy holding on for dear life.  
  
"Open your eyes, Remus," Sirius said.  
  
"I'm just fine, thanks," he replied. It was nearly 20 minutes into the ride, and Remus's eyes had been shut tightly for its entirety.  
  
"How are you ever going to enjoy it if you don't open your eyes?" Sirius cajoled.  
  
Remus's eyes flickered open, a little unwillingly. He peered out below him, trying to shift as little as possible. The view was breathtaking- they were high above London. The city lay sprawling below them, just tiny lights on black. To Remus it was like gems on velvet, or like a chunk of the sky had affixed itself to the earth. He shrugged the similes out of his head. Nothing quite fit. It was beautiful; that was all that mattered. He held Sirius a little tighter, telling himself that it was so he wouldn't slip when he leaned over to look at the ground.  
  
"So you like it?" Sirius asked.  
  
"I love it," responded Remus. "It's absolutely fantastic."  
  
"Check this out," he said. "Altisonus." Music started playing, a breezy big band piece that Sirius loved. Remus laughed. For all his attempts to be cool, Sirius had the most backward tastes in music. A biker with a secret thing for Benny Goodman. What would the rest of the gang say?  
  
Sirius took the bike past the city, past the suburbs, and out towards the country. Every so often, he'd point some landmark out to Remus, or make some crack about crashing. Remus wasn't really listening. He was too busy being dazzled alternately by the landscape, or how nice Sirius's hair smelled and how he had never noticed it, or how perfect it was when the lead trumpet hit a high note just right and a meteor streaked across the sky.  
  
And too soon it was over- Sirius set the bike down in a landing that was oddly gentle. Remus tensed and waited for the crash.  
  
"You can let me go now, Remy," Sirius laughed, pulling off his helmet. Remus loosened his grip and climbed off the bike. He leaned against the wall and watched as Sirius got down and tugged the cover back over the motorbike. "So did you have a good time?" asked Sirius, walking towards him.  
  
"Perfect," said Remus, smiling. And then Sirius was on him, and they were kissing, and Merlin, where ever had he learned to do that with his tongue? And since when were there trumpets in his head?  
  
Remus pulled back, panting slightly. Sirius looked worried. That wasn't good. "Look, mate, I'm sorry," Sirius said, not looking Remus in the eye.  
  
There was something desperately important that Remus needed to tell him. His lips opened, but his brain wasn't sending down any words. So Remus kissed him back, harder. Then he remembered. He loved flying and he loved jazz but he loved Sirius, just being with Sirius, over all and it all fit perfectly. He tried to pour every thought he had, every emotion he was feeling, every last ounce of himself into that kiss. And then his brain went right along with it.  
  
Remus awoke, a little disoriented. His brain was soup. There was something about a motorbike and Benny Goodman. He couldn't remember if it had all been some kind of crazy dream.  
  
Then he felt Sirius lying warm and calm beside him, and it all made sense again. He fell back to sleep. 


End file.
